:: Tuesday, December 31, 2002 ::

"I never felt magic crazy as this..." (Nick Drake)
Socrates on virtue, Aristotle on the soul, Bethany on being in quite possibly her first functional relationship ever:
From about six years old, or possibly even before, I have been quite determined against engineers. All the engineers I knew, including my Grandpa, seemed to have an inherent boringness gene. I mean, really-- who wants to listen to long, technical descriptions of absolutely every topic known to man? At six years old, my mind was made up. Shortly thereafter, I told my parents, "I will NEVER marry an engineer." My decision was set in stone for life. Not angels nor principalities nor powers could move me.
Enter: LeTourneau University. How I ended up at a school renowned for its engineering credentials is beyond me, except that the decision was definitely God's. Since then, I have come a long way. I know how capacitors work, am learning how to solder, and am fascinated by terms like "potentiometer" and "Dr. Gonzalez."
And I'm dating an engineer.
You may wonder why I've kept this little part of my life hidden from le blog until now. Honestly, I felt that I needed to comprehend this whole relationship business before I tried to make others comprehend it. Now the time has come...
We are together despite ourselves. I'm not sure many people have fought as hard as we did against the prospect of a wonderful relationship. We became good friends, spent hours getting to know each other, realized how right "more-than-friendship" would be, and ran far away. He retreated into Denial, while I spent most of my spare time in Avoidance. This only serves to emphasize the point that God made this happen, not us.
Eventually, after a series of circumstances that neither of us had planned, we ended up in a series of DTRs that neither of us had planned. Much skepticism and prayer went into defining our relationship, and after officializing "we," the first couple of weeks were amazingly rough. A huge mental shift was required for me to respond to invitations with, "Yes, we'll be there." I have always been fiercely independent, and I guess I was more attached to singlehood than I realized. The concept of tragic loneliness was hard to part with.
The biggest change actually happened in the area of communication. In typical Bethany-fashion, I thought I would be able to swing a relationship by avoiding all conflict, avoiding all disagreement for that matter, never saying what I was really thinking, and shutting down when conversation got too personal. Apparently, some people think this is not the optimal way to communicate! The process of openness, honesty, and understanding has been a struggle. A stretch. A raging battle. Impossible (almost). Amazing. Fulfilling. Well worth the trouble.
I have read more relationship books in my time than any sane mortal should, but nothing prepared me for the elaborate mixture of intellect, emotions, fears, discoveries, ups, downs, hurts, joys, pain, and beauty. The going is tougher than imagined, and the rewards are greater than I've ever dreamed.
The Beginning.

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not, but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for." ~Epicurus

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:: Bethany Bassett - 12:46 PM :: + ::

"Come on people, now, smile on your brother..." (Chris Gaines)

Since long ages past, there has been an unspoken rule that strangers are to remain strangers.

His name was Charles.

Eye contact and polite necessities are the only interaction permitted by tradition.

I couldn't tell at first what he was thinking... Usually, unknown men in airports looking intently into my eyes and offering me "somethin' pretty dat your mommy would like" do not have pristine motives.

Wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, you know.

Thick country accent. "Where are you goin', ma'am? Why do all da sistah's run away from me?" Something caught me, intrigued me. I stayed.

No one must invade your personal bubble.

His name was Charles. He was homeless, a Baltimore street bum. He was 55 with an estranged family and a girlfriend named Sharon.

Neither must you invade anyone else's personal bubble.

He gave me a little porcelain bell, handpainted with delicate scenes of Maryland. I didn't understand--"For me?" "I gave it tah you, din't I?" "But why?" Slowly. "Because I have a big heart, ma'am."

Blend into the crowd, but keep your personal space sacred.

His family has left, and no one cares for a worn out homeless man. However, this worn out homeless man gave me a bell because of his big heart, to show me that someone cares. Something about the situation is horribly twisted.

Voices of our predecessors... We are all islands.

His name is Charles. Yesterday was his birthday. He is now 56, still homeless, still worn out, still left behind in the wake of modern life.
But he will not be forgotten.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 8:49 PM :: + ::

"We need a little Christmas now..."
Sitting here, diligently not wrapping Christmas presents... Last year, my favorite part of break was the hours spent hiding commercialized paraphernalia beneath blissfully tacky paper. (Somehow all the wrapping is delegated to me; sometimes the presents for me don't get wrapped at all!) This year, however, I'm finding excuses to let the piles all over my room accumulate dust. I've been cheerfully rag-painting and installing new flooring and baking cookies, but when it comes to wrapping presents.....
The spirit of Christmas has yet to hit me this season. Due to all the remodelling, we aren't having any Christmas decorations--not even a tree. I'm ok with this; I'm usually not one to mourn tradition. However, I feel lost with the 60 degree sunshine and decoration of wood panels and "Wingspan" paint when I know I should be caught up in the old excitement of peace on earth, goodwill to men. It feels wrong somehow, out of place, to be layering gifts with poinsettias and cheery bearded men and holiday bells.
Maybe I just need a Scrooge-like epiphany.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 8:14 PM :: + ::

"Dip your hands in colours while the young night flutters in on you..." (Over the Rhine)
I'm back. I have been gone far too long... been reinvented too many times... been taught the unfaithfulness of perspective... been convinced of God's bewildering goodness.
More than all my semesters at college, this one sprang out of an impossible place, turned me inside out, hit me over the head several times, and left me a very different person. So many mindsets have been shattered:
~ Complete honesty is taboo.
~ Differences of opinion destroy relationships.
~ I am invicible as long as I'm alive.
~ Christians should be nice.
~ Food cannot be eaten past the sell-by date.
~ I won't survive waving friends forever goodbye.
~ Human approval is necessary for worth.
~ I will die up north in the winter.
~ Significant areas of life take significant amounts of time to change.
~ I will never date an engineer.
~ For that matter, I will never date a LeTourneau student.
~ Same thing.
~ Love is a fairy-tale meant never for me.
Is there some unique air on college campuses that rearranges the brain in ways previous experience never did? I do wonder sometimes...
I also want to hereby apologize for the blog silence; the last week of school was dizzying, and then I spent a few eventful days in Maryland visiting el hombre's familia. More details on that are forthcoming, as soon as we figure out who's writing what (which could take a while, so don't get your hopes up yet). Anyway..... anyway. It's good to be back.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 9:35 PM :: + ::

"How'd I get so faithful to my freedom?" (No Doubt)

The Traveling Bug has bitten me again. This time, the overwhelming candidate is Botswana. Two months. Tents as home, safari sunrises, food cooked over wood fires... African children, mountains, rondavels, wildlife, food, smiles... Something inside of me is jumping up and down, rebelling against its cage, crazy with joy at even the prospect of my Africa, seeing it again, breathing in the essence of something I've missed for too long. Welcome to my love affair with a continent.
Don't expect me to live a normal life, a comfortable existence in suburban America. There is too much world for me to stay here. There are too many mountains to hike, too many of my perspectives to change, too many exotic foods to try, too many people to love. Life is shorter and richer than any of us know.
Oh, who could not get excited over the prospect of Mopane worms for supper?

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:: Bethany Bassett - 8:07 PM :: + ::

"A breath away's not far..." (Josh Groban)
Today, my last psychology classes -- ever -- ended. I am happy, with the little chill of sadness that always comes when a book is permanently closed, even if the chapters were mostly unpleasant. I can't deny that I have had more fun in Social Psychology than any other class. Where else can students yell, throw things, make fun of each other with impunity, impersonate scandalous characters, joke extensively about Freudian... er, anatomy, break the elevator, and laugh until the bell rings? I will miss it, just like I miss high school--not wanting to go back, but savoring every good memory.
Only two items are left on my checklist: one set of reading and one lonely paper. My break has arrived already. Another semester survived, even though it took some sleepless nights and pillow fights to get there. Oh, and what a semester it's been! I wonder what will be inscribed on the history books in my head... what will be remembered in the ever-elusive Someday?
But I don't need to think about that now. Today, I could sit and breathe for hours. The day somehow seems appropriate for a permanent half-asleep state, too many pillows, foreign languages, coffee that never quite reaches the bottom of the cup, words tucked inside for fear of freezing in the November air, romantic popera, maybe a kiss or two on the forehead... hey, enjoy your day, yo!

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:: Bethany Bassett - 3:11 PM :: + ::

"And we need a little snappy 'Happy ever after'..." (???)

And now, a blog about why I haven't been blogging.
This semester has been rather changeful, and stress has been significantly more here lately. I'm shocked at how rapidly the end of the semester has come and at how much is left to do in the next 2.5 days of class. Somewhere in the grand whirlwind of an ever-changing life, my Muse got lost. Maybe it will come back soon... I miss me.
I feel like I should apologize for being silent, disconnected, confused, confusing... for losing grasp of myself each time I finally think I'm figured out... for slipping in and out of lives much too easily... But the semester's almost over, and I'll be back soon.
Thanks for being patient, folks.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 12:41 PM :: + ::